


Gif 2: Tutu

by Mildly_Maddy



Series: The Secrets You've Seen [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kink Exploration, M/M, OTRA tour, Slight Crossdressing Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8112820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mildly_Maddy/pseuds/Mildly_Maddy
Summary: Louis knows he was right to nick the tutu from the stage flotsam the second Liam reaches out to take it from his hands, eyes wide and cheeks pinkening.
Because that bloody tutu was begging for a fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written because of this gif, because - well seriously do I need to give a reason??
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> Gif courtesy of the amazing [umthatsliam](http://umthatsliam.tumblr.com/post/127465444161/chicago-23-aug).

Louis knows he was right to nick the tutu from the stage flotsam the second Liam reaches out to take it from his hands, eyes wide and cheeks pinkening.

“I thought it’d been binned…” Liam says, voice soft like he’s not completely conscious of speaking out loud. 

Louis did notice him looking for it (or at least he hoped it was for that), but he hadn’t wanted to spoil the surprise by reassuring Liam too soon. 

He wraps his arms around Liam’s neck and kisses him, quick soft pecks that make Liam chuckle. “It looked really good on you,” Louis says between kisses; “I'd love to see you put it back on.”

“Yeah?” Liam titters, as if he's ready to play it off as a joke.

Louis doesn't want it to be a joke. When Liam pranced around on stage like a ballerina, there was a light in his crinkled eyes Louis had never seen before and he wants to see it again. Wants to let Liam have whatever he desires. “Yeah,” he says, brushing his fingertips against the soft hair at the nape of Liam’s neck. “Why don't you just put it on now? Wanna see how it looks without your jeans and everything else.”

Liam visibly startles, clutching the bright pink fabric. “You want me to wear it _naked_?!”

“Well you won't really be naked, will you? You'll have a tutu on.”

Liam hesitates, opening his mouth as if to argue further, but his eyes stray down to the tutu in his hands and his face sets in that resolute way it does when Liam makes up his mind about something. “Alright. But if it looks stupid-”

“If you don't like it you'll just take it off,” Louis says, raising his palms in a gesture of goodwill.

“Alright,” Liam says again. There's a beat, then he turns on his heels, going into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. Any other day Louis would holler after him, mocking him for such misplaced modesty, but today he wants Liam to set the rules, to go about things in whichever way he feels most comfortable with.

Now that all his focus isn't on getting Liam to go along with this, Louis’s nerves finally catch up with him. He wavers in the middle of the room for a while, then sits on the edge of the bed, tapping his fingers on his knees to mark the time. This thing between them… they haven’t even given it a name yet. One drunken post-concert snog somehow turned into regular hook-ups, which turned into Louis automatically joining Liam in his hotel room wherever they go, but they’ve never talked about any of it, not really.

So maybe this idea Louis got, maybe it’s pushing things too far. Maybe it’s going to blow up in his face. But he can still see Liam goofing around on stage, the pink tutu hanging low on his hips; see Liam's fingers playing with the fabric, fluffing it up; how his hands kept going back down to brush against the hem of the ruffles as if Liam couldn't help himself. The thing is… Liam looked really... pretty. Not silly, like with the costumes he usually puts on. Pretty.

That, more even than the urge to let Liam have what he wants, is what brought Louis here, nervously staring at his knees while Liam slips on a tutu in the bathroom of his hotel suite.

After what feels like hours, Liam's voice finally comes from behind the bathroom door. “It looks stupid,” he says, sounding dejected.

Louis is on his feet and leaning against the door before he even thinks about moving. “I'm sure it's not that bad. Come on, let us have a look? Just one look.”

“Promise not to laugh.”

Louis has never wanted to make fun of something less in his entire life. “I promise.”

“And you won't take a picture.”

Louis can't help but snort. “Mate, as much as I'd love to fill my phone with naked pictures of you, we both know it's a risk I can't take.”

“Alright…”

Louis steps back as the doorknob turns, steeling himself; this is too important for him to fuck up.

Any urge he may have had to laugh dies the second he sees Liam anyway. It _should_ look ridiculous, that bright pink fluffy piece of fabric on Liam's hairy body, the tutu barely long enough to hide his cock from view, riding so low on Liam’s hips his pubes peek out from the waistband… But somehow it's all Louis can do to remember how to breathe.

Liam must sense it even through his insecurity, for he steps out of the bathroom, hands nervously fiddling with the tutu. “You don't think I look like an idiot?” he asks, looking down at himself then back up at Louis, eyes open and hopeful.

Louis’s voice comes out strangled. “No, I… You look amazing.”

He can’t tear his eyes off Liam’s body, hands clenched into fists at his sides until he remembers that he’s allowed to reach out, he’s allowed to touch. He takes two stumbling steps forward and extends a hand to brush his fingertips against the tutu’s ruffles, Liam’s sharp intake of breath easily audible in the silence of the room.

“You look fucking perfect,” Louis says again before surging up and kissing him, one hand coming up to the back of Liam’s neck to pull him down.

Liam kisses back, hands coming to rest on Louis’s hips, but when Louis breaks the kiss, looking up at him with breathless awe, Liam’s mouth is crooked in a self-deprecating smile. “I still think I look like a bit of a twat,” he says with a soft chuckle, not meeting Louis’s eyes.

“Okay, stop this right now, I mean it,” Louis says, making up for the sharpness of the words with another soft kiss to Liam’s lips before he grabs a hold of Liam’s arms, manhandling him until they’re both facing the bedroom’s full length mirror, Louis standing behind Liam’s back, his hands holding Liam’s arms to his sides. “Just _look_ at you!” he says, wishing Liam could see himself through Louis’s eyes, see how the tutu is somehow making him more soft and more masculine all at once, the frills counterbalancing the lack of curves in Liam’s lean frame while at the same time making his hairy chest and indecent six-pack stand out even more than usual. 

It’s a deadly mix, one that has Louis going frantic with want. He would have Liam bend him over the nearest desk and dick into him hard until Louis couldn’t even remember his name, a fucking god of sex pulling him apart in a ballerina’s tutu, but he knows without asking that this isn't what Liam has in mind, even if he's not yet sure of what Liam _wants_ , exactly.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles against Liam’s skin, pressing kisses along the curve of his shoulder. He moves his left hand to Liam’s thigh, slipping it under the fabric. It’s not as soft as it looks, but it still feels disconcertingly delicate against his skin as he trails his fingers up and down Liam’s thigh, not missing the way Liam’s fingers come to play with the frills right above his hand.

Liam takes a deep breath, as if he’s steeling himself for something. “I do like it,” he says, voice firm, like he’s pre-empting any mockery by straight away standing behind his words with all he’s got.

Mockery is the furthest thing away from Louis’s mind as he sneaks his way up Liam’s thigh, fingertips brushing against Liam’s pubes in an unhurried tease. “Good. Cause I don’t think I ever got so hard so fast in my life.” 

And that’s maybe a bit more candid than Louis intended to be, but when he takes a peek over Liam’s shoulder, Liam’s expression has changed from doubtful embarrassment to clear arousal, so Louis congratulates himself on a job well done.

He moves his fingers forward, the pads of his fingertips making their way up Liam’s cock in the softest of touches. Liam’s fully hard, tip already sticky with precome, and Louis muffles a groan against Liam’s shoulder as he wraps his hand around his cock, giving it one slow pull.

“Oh god…” Liam chokes out, slumping forward and catching himself with one outstretched arm, hand pressed against the mirror. Louis only gets a couple more strokes, long and tight, before Liam grabs his wrist, stilling his movement. “Don’t. You’ll ruin it.”

It takes a few agonizing seconds for Louis to realize that Liam’s not talking about ruining the moment but ruining the tutu, and he grins, raising himself on tiptoes to press a kiss to the back of Liam’s ear. “Oh, pet. If you like it this much we’ll get you another one. Fuck that, we’ll get you an entire trunk of them! Would you like that?”

He doesn’t know where the endearment came from, but Liam’s dick twitches against his fingers when he says it, and before he’s aware of what’s happening Liam has spun around and is kissing him, strong hands cupping Louis’s jaw and curling around his neck, keeping him close as Liam thrusts his tongue through Louis’s half-parted lips, seeking his own.

Once he’s caught up with things, Louis gives as good as he gets, until it feels like Liam could be happy to stand there kissing for hours, and that’s not what Louis’s got in mind for tonight. He slows his kisses, turns them into quick teasing flicks of his tongue, softly nibbling at Liam’s bottom lip, before leaning back completely, looking up at Liam. His eyes are already unfocused, the flush in his cheeks spreading all the way down to his chest.

“What d’you want, babe?” Louis asks, slipping his hands down to Liam’s arse, kneading it on top of the fabric. 

Liam groans, nestling his face against Louis’s neck. “I want… fuck.” He groans again, low in his throat, as Louis pushes him forward, pressing Liam’s cock to his stomach. “Lou, _please_.”

“You have to tell me, pet.” There it is again, and he’s never called anyone “pet” in his entire life, but Liam straightens up at the word, looking at Louis with wide eyes, and then they’re moving, Liam gently guiding Louis backwards until Louis’s calves hit the edge of some piece or furniture or other - a regal Louis-something chair, he realizes a second after, Liam already climbing in his lap. The chair is wide but it’s still a tight fit, Liam’s legs squeezed against the chair’s delicate armrests. 

His tutu is bunched up in his lap and Louis takes a few seconds to straighten it out until it’s spread like a flower’s petals. The soft lingering kiss Liam gives him when he looks back up feels like a thank you, and Louis’s more confused than ever, unsure whether Liam wants it rough or tender - it’s possible Liam himself doesn’t know.

The way Liam grabs Louis’s hands a second later, forcefully placing them back on his arse as he starts grinding forward, makes his intentions clearer. “Fuck me,” Liam gasps against Louis’s mouth, looking almost in pain as he reaches up to grab the edges of the chair’s back, using it as leverage to move faster in Louis’s lap. 

The chair creaks ominously, and Louis’s quite sure they’re going to end up on the floor in a pile of splinters, but he’s not about to stop this, not when Liam looks like the only thing keeping him together is the promise of Louis’s cock filling him up. There’s no way the denim of Louis’s jeans feels good against Liam’s naked cock, but Liam doesn’t seem to care, fastening his lips to Louis’s neck and sucking hard enough to make Louis cry out, hands clenching around the fabric of the tutu, tugging it upwards.

“No, leave it on,” Liam immediately says, almost whimpering, one hand reaching back to tug the fabric down. 

Louis smoothes the tutu over Liam’s arse, kissing his lips, his chin, his collarbone in apology, fingers of one hand slipping under the frills to go brush against the cleft of Liam's arse. “Are you gonna prep yourself for me?” he asks him, suddenly desperate to get inside of him, not sure he’ll manage to hold off if they take too long to get there. He’s never seen Liam like this and it’s driving him up the wall with arousal. He wants to wreck him, to give him whatever he wants until Liam is satiated and blissful.

Liam leans back, his eyes clearing a bit as he looks at Louis. He stops moving, and nods, once.

“Good boy,” Louis says, not missing the smile tugging at the corner of Liam’s lips at the praise. “There’s supplies in the top drawer, next to the bed.”

Liam scrambles to his feet to get the tube of lube and the packets of condoms Louis stashed in his bedside table as soon as they got assigned their rooms (every night they’ve spent together in the past month has ended in sex. Louis’s stance is that it’s better to be prepared), and Louis takes the opportunity to wriggle out of his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor and sitting back down, naked arse pressed against the priceless and probably non washable brocade of the chair. He clenches his hands around the armrests to keep himself from touching his cock, toes curling and uncurling in the plush carpet as he watches Liam hurry back to him with the supplies, his breath taken away once more at how _right_ it looks, Liam’s lean muscular frame and the fluffiness of the tutu.

Liam stops in front of the chair, eyes going up and down Louis’s body, lingering on Louis’s cock. He licks his lips, and Louis’s glad he’s already sitting down because he’s quite sure his legs would give way were he standing up.

“Sit,” he orders, because he knows he’s not the one supposed to get all weak in the knees, that he’s supposed to be the one in charge, even though Liam could wreck him with the slightest touch.

Liam settles back on top of him, slipping the condom and the lube in the waistband of his tutu after a second’s hesitation, so his hands are free to touch Louis, fingers gliding along his shoulders, down his chest to his stomach, then back up along his sides, until Louis’s feeling himself unravelling at the seams.

“Kiss me,” he says, clearing his throat when the words come out as little more than a croak.

Liam looks up at him, the quiet concentrated expression he was sporting as he let his fingers roam Louis’s body clearing into a small smile as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Louis’s lips.

Liam’s lips move to his cheek, down his jaw, one hand curling over Louis’s shoulder, the other slipping around his waist. 

“Open yourself up,” Louis says, grabbing the lube from Liam’s waistband and pressing it against his chest. The thought of coming before he can actually fuck Liam is unbearable.

Watching Liam coat his fingers with lube and reach backwards, Louis helpfully keeping the tutu up to avoid it getting caught in the action, is quite something, as is the sudden brush of Liam’s cock against his when Liam shifts in his lap, torso gracefully curving backwards as Liam looks down his own back, pressing one finger inside himself. 

“Fuck, just look at you,” Louis breathes, sliding one hand down just in time to feel Liam’s finger sinking down to the second knuckle into his hole.

He wishes, not for the first time, that they could afford the risk of taking mementos, but he’s not crazy enough to do it. He trails his lips down Liam’s neck, along the curve of his collarbone, the rhythmic brushing of Liam’s curled fingers against his thighs a tantalizing tease as Liam works himself open with one finger, then two. Liam only falters when Louis’s lips close around his nipple, and the small squelching sound as he takes his fingers out is nothing short of obscene.

“Should do,” he says, turning back to Louis with pupils blown wide, his bottom lip red as if he's been biting on it all the time he was prepping himself, which he probably has. “Fuck me,” he mumbles against Louis's cheek, and the fact that he seems to have given up on making actual sentences is hotter than Louis cares to admit.

“You're supposed to fuck yourself, remember?” Louis says, proud of himself for still remembering this with what little blood is currently being directed to his brain.

Liam groans, brushing the tutu away to get at Louis’s cock, and it’s frankly a miracle Louis doesn’t come at the first tight stroke of Liam’s hand. He arches off the chair, pushing his hips up with a strangled moan when Liam’s lips fasten on his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise.

“If you make me come now you won’t get fucked either way,” Louis manages to get out, voice faint, body melting back into the chair when Liam leans away, hand reluctantly letting go of Louis’s cock.

Liam scoots back, most of his weight resting on Louis’s shaking knees, to roll the condom down Louis’s cock and lube him up, his touch turned light like he doesn't want to risk making Louis come too soon.

“Ride me,” is all Louis can get out at this point, and Liam is apparently beyond words altogether, for he only growls as he dumps the empty condom wrapper and the tube of lube to the ground, scooting forward again until he’s kneeling up on the chair, hovering over Louis’s lap, fumbling blindly to try and get a hold of Louis’s cock. Louis ends up doing it himself, lining the head of his cock with Liam’s hole, his view obscured by the pink frills. They both gasp when the tip slips in, and Louis doesn’t take another breath until he’s balls deep into Liam, the edges of the tutu tickling his naked thighs and stomach in a way that feels unsettlingly familiar, bringing him back to other times, Eleanor straddling his lap in the middle of the day, the shock and arousal when he’d realize she wasn’t wearing anything under her skirt.

He’s brought back to reality when Liam raises himself up slightly before sinking back down, Louis’s hands flying to Liam’s broad back to keep himself steady as Liam slowly but surely takes him apart, his breathing loud in Louis’s ear. He rests his forehead against Liam’s shoulder, eyes fixed on his lap, the pink fabric of the tutu in sharp contrast with Liam’s toned, hairy stomach, muscles rippling with every move. He can’t really do much to help Liam, pinned in place by his weight, the chair protesting each time he tries to move, but he pushes his hips up as best he can, gasping every time Liam’s hole clenches around his cock, the tightness and heat of him almost too much to take.

When he gets his hand around Liam’s own cock, wrapping it up in the tutu, Liam shudders so hard Louis almost freaks out, but Liam’s kissing him before he can ask him if he’s alright. Kissing isn’t easy with Liam moving faster and faster on top of him, and it’s messy and wet and a bit silly, but they give it their best, panting into each other’s mouth when they can get them aligned, teeth clacking every once in awhile, making Louis feel like a horny clumsy teenager all over again.

“You like that, don’t you?” he says when he can get his breathing under control again, mumbling the words into Liam’s ear. The tutu is soft against his palm but Liam’s cock is rock hard beneath it and it’s a sensation Louis can’t remember ever experiencing before, although it's’ somehow intrinsically _Liam_ , all hard muscles and soft heart.

If Liam answers something, it’s not in any language Louis can understand, but the sudden wet heat against Louis’s thumb as he presses it against the tip of Liam’s cock is louder than words. Liam shakes apart in Louis’s lap as he comes, open mouth pressed to Louis’s cheek but no sound coming out, as if his body can’t afford the energy that would take him. The tutu gets clammy with come but Louis doesn’t stop stroking, only changing his rhythm to something more deliberate, a long slow pull and a quicker downstroke. He only lets go of Liam’s cock when Liam’s fingers tremblingly brush against the back of his hand, a wordless plea.

For a few seconds Louis is so focused on Liam that he forgets about his own cock, still trapped in the hot clench of Liam’s arse, but pretty soon his body starts clamouring for renewed friction, his orgasm so close and yet still horribly out of reach.

He shifts his hips as best he can, but it’s not nearly enough, and Liam is growing ever heavier in his lap, his muscles relaxing as he comes down from his high.

“Liam,” Louis says, voice clipped, moving his hands to Liam’s arse and trying to lift him up. “Payno, _please_.”

“Hm?” Liam asks, and he looks so happily fucked out that Louis can’t help but grin, raising one hand to run his fingers along Liam’s jaw before pressing his thumb against Liam’s bottom lip.

“I'd really _really_ like to come, if it's all the same to you.”

Liam's reaction is far from satisfactory, and Louis bites off a frustrated whimper as Liam just nuzzles his face against his neck, his smile so big Louis can feel it against his skin.

Then, just as Louis is about to pinch him hard despite the risk of Liam making any brusque movement with Louis's cock still inside of him, Liam shifts so he's no longer kneeling on the chair but squatting over Louis’s lap, reaching down to take a hold of Louis's cock as he slowly rises on his feet. The loss of pressure on his cock makes Louis gasp, and his breath is further taken away by the sight of Liam falling to his knees on the carpeted floor, deftly pulling Louis's condom off before fitting his lips around the head of his cock and swallowing him whole in one smooth bob of his head.

 _Fuck_ , Louis thinks, loudly, but the word won't even come out, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he takes the sights in, Liam flushed and sweaty all over, his eyes still slightly unfocused as he looks up at Louis, his kiss-swollen lips stretched taut around Louis's cock, his pink tutu rumpled and soiled with come.

“Such a… such a good boy,” Louis finally gets out, stroking Liam's cheek with slightly shaky fingers, pressing his fingertips against the skin to feel the pressure of them on his own cock as Liam sucks him off. “You've been such a good, pretty boy…”

It's hard to be sure because of the way Liam's face is already flushed, but Louis could swear his cheeks pinken further at the praise, and the low moan Liam lets out around Louis's cock seems to confirm it.

“You’ve ruined that beautiful tutu though,” Louis adds as Liam starts bobbing his head faster, breathing heavily through his nose but clearly reluctant to come up for air. “Better not let anyone see it, they’d know straight away what you’ve been up to…”

He means it as a tease, if a slightly breathless one, but Liam pulls off his cock and looks up at him with an expression Louis cannot decipher, something that looks a bit like shock but clearly isn’t. Louis is about to apologize, just in case, when Liam closes his eyes and leans forward, rubbing the side of his face against Louis’s cock in a strangely submissive gesture that makes Louis’s fingers clench around the armrests. 

“Babe, what-” His words cut off with a strangled moan as Liam leans back, looking up at Louis with the same expression as before and letting his mouth fall open right in front of Louis’s dick, the invitation crystal clear. “Fucking hell…” Louis whispers, feeling faint. 

He shifts so he’s sitting on the very edge of the chair, knees bracketing Liam’s shoulders, and gently takes hold of Liam’s head, slipping just the tip of his cock into Liam’s waiting mouth. Liam’s tongue comes up to tease at the slit and it’s all Louis can do not to come right then and there. He tries to focus on his breathing as Liam’s tongue keeps flicking against his cock, travelling around the ridge, pressing down against the slit, taking quick laps at the head. His eyes are fixed on Louis, wide and almost innocent, and it’s doing Louis’s head in, he’s not sure if he likes it or not, except for the fact that it’s the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen. He slowly, slowly pushes more of his cock into Liam’s mouth, watching as Liam’s eyes finally flutter shut, his nostrils flaring with each breath, his hands, Louis notices with a jolt, clenched around his come-stained tutu like a debauched ballerina.

He would like to keep things slow to the end, to make sure he doesn’t hurt or choke Liam by accident, but he can feel his control slipping, every fiber in his body shouting out _more!_ , _faster!_ , _deeper!_ His fingers tighten around Liam’s head and the muscles in his thighs and stomach tense up as he picks up the pace, panting openly at the sight of his cock going in and out of Liam’s mouth, glazed with spit and precome - it’s as obscene as it is beautiful, Liam’s full pink lips around Louis’s flushed cock, the wet noises Liam makes as he sucks him in, panting around his mouthful. 

He’s so close to coming he can already taste it, his entire world narrowed down to the pull in his groin and Liam’s wet mouth, when Liam suddenly pushes back against Louis’s hands, letting Louis’s cock slip out of his mouth and closing his mouth as if to make it clear he’s not going to start sucking him again.

Louis falters, dizzy from arousal and frustrated beyond words, letting his hands drop from Liam’s face and only vaguely conscious of the way he takes himself in hand, stroking himself fast and hard, chasing his orgasm. Liam looks at him for a second, then closes his eyes, and Louis comes with a gasp the second he understands what Liam is asking him to do.

The first streak of come hits Liam square on the nose then slides down to the corner of Liam's mouth. Liam's tongue darts out to take a lick and it's a pity Louis's already halfway through his orgasm because the sight would have been enough to make him come untouched. A blob of come lands on Liam’s cheek next, then his eyebrow, dripping down one closed eyelid. Louis manages to aim for Liam’s mouth, come glistening on his lower lip, before the rest sputters weakly over his own fingers, his orgasm finally milked out of him.

Liam doesn't move, and for long seconds Louis can do nothing but stare, taking in big gulps of air in an effort to get his breath back, fingers leaving his cock to curl around the ornate edge of the chair. Liam looks as serene as Louis feels wrecked, and once he can finally breathe regularly again Louis slips to the floor, gently swiping the come off of Liam’s eyelid with his thumb. “You can open your eyes,” he says, and Liam does. They stare at each other for long seconds before Louis’s eyes stray down to Liam’s mouth; there’s still a smudge of come on Liam's bottom lip, and Louis sucks it into his mouth before his squeamish brain can object. 

By the time they stop kissing, Louis can feel his own skin itching with dried come. “God we’re disgusting,” he mumbles against Liam’s lips, his snort turning into a proper chuckle as Liam joins in, until they’re both silently shaking with laughter, two messy boys on the floor of a posh hotel room.

“Shower?” Liam finally asks, and he's himself again, his warm brown eyes twinkling as he smiles at Louis. The thought that Liam may have not been quite himself before is disconcerting, but for a moment there Louis really thinks Liam may have slipped away from him.

He plasters himself against Liam's front once Liam's wriggled out of the tutu, eager to feel him without the barrier of pink tulle, Liam's spent cock soft against the crease of Louis's thigh. Liam's hands roam the expense of Louis's back, going up to his hair and tilting his head back just enough for Liam to catch his lips in a kiss. It's soft, and unhurried, and Louis could stay here for hours, if the smell of dried come didn't tickle his nose in a rather unpleasant way.

“Right, shower.”

Later on, Liam does bend him over a desk, fucking into him until Louis doesn’t know if he’s crying or laughing, coming with a shout against the priceless varnished mahogany when Liam’s teeth close around the curve of his neck. 

In the bathroom, the tutu hangs on a hamper, dripping wet from Louis’s attempt at cleaning it up.

He just thinks it’d be a pity to throw it away, is all.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr post for easy sharing :)](http://mildlymaddy.tumblr.com/post/150788178046/the-secrets-youve-seen-mildlymaddy-one)
> 
> Thanks as always to my darling [Randominity](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Randominity) for the swift beta, you're an angel. <3


End file.
